Familiar
by Meganero
Summary: The final part of her sorceress training is to summon a familiar, but Marinette Dupain-Cheng received more than what she was bargaining for.
1. Familiar

**Title:** Familiar

 **Rating:** M

 **Warnings:** Smut, Oral, Blood, Detail

 **Summary:** The final part of her sorceress training is to summon a familiar, but Marinette Dupain-Cheng received more than she was bargaining for. (Warning: Detailed Lemon)

 **Note:** Wow. Four years to not write smut is a long time.

" **Familiar"**

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Her heart thumped rapidly, nerves getting the best of her. She swallowed, raising a shaky hand to her chest in a meager attempt to calm her everlasting fears. This was the moment. She had trained for this day. All her arduous work was for this, the time when she would become a true sorceress. Marinette Dupain-cheng had participated in magical studies since the age of twelve, learning under the wisest of witches in her tiny village and anticipating the day she would finally become one of them and join their ranks. Her parents had never dabbled in the craft themselves, having chosen to live the life of humble bakers instead. Their daughter's interest in such things as witchcraft surprised them slightly, but it only made sense in a village where sorcery was held in high regard. So, with but a hint of disappointment that she would not follow in their footsteps, they accepted her wishes and enrolled her in the nearby institution of magic.

The elders quickly decided that Marinette harbored a gift for the trade and immediately took her in. This- however- did not mean that she went without hardships in her training. Those such as the mayor's daughter, Chloé Bourgeois, tormented the girl to no end… Sabotaging Marinette's potions, tripping the girl in the mess hall, kicking her feet out from under her at flying practice… The list went on and so forth.

On the contrary, this only made Marinette stronger. She became hardened over the course of her schooling, more quick-witted and calculating. Before she knew it, Marinette had risen to become one of the top students of her class. She passed all obstacles thus far and now only one remained, the summoning of her familiar.

All witches and warlocks were required to go through this final phase of training, but the thought still managed to frighten Marinette. She had heard of horror stories about beasts turning on their masters, slaughtering them on the very runes they had been summoned by. Of course, those few instances were by demons who swore to bow to no human, but the thought was still terrifying. Marinette could only pray that her familiar would be a kind spirit that would bond well with her over a given time.

"Child, are you fully prepared?" The words snapped Marinette out of her reverie, and she instantly nodded her head. She was. The past twenty minutes had been spent bathing her in the proper oils and incense required for the ritual. She had been dressed appropriately in a thin maroon material that left naught to the imagination. Rouge was carefully applied to her cheeks and her lips painted a ruby red. Markings were etched on her palms as Marinette shivered in the chill room. Although all of this was necessary, she still could not help but feel very exposed and frightened. "Then let us go." An elderly witch then led her by the arm, outside of the preparation chamber and into the stone courtyard.

Beneath the full moon, on the eve of her twentieth birthday, Marinette Dupain-cheng would be transformed into a proper sorceress. She stood before all officials present, awaiting their chants and words spoken to the heavens. With this, the ritual began. There was no turning back, the runes had already begun to glow. This was it. She provided the blood for the summoning. Having accepted a dagger from a nearby warlock, she pierced her own skin and slid the blade across her palm. There was a twinge of pain, and Marinette flinched ever so slightly. The weapon was then taken from her as she chanted the words required of her, squeezing her hand to produce more blood. The crimson essence descended to the circle below, steaming upon contact. This was it. Her heart beat faster. This was the moment Marinette's life would change forever. "Come forth. For, I summon thee." Upon her final words, a column of smoke arose from the center of the alter, temporarily blinding its casters.

The thin tendrils of light dissipated as all now stood clear. Marinette first did not see what it was she summoned but instead heard. A sound, one she did not expect to hear- especially at a summoning of all places. A loud mewl had resounded at her feet, and upon proper inspection she was instantly enchanted by green eyes.

A lean house cat dark as the night and with the most startling jade irises she had ever laid sight upon. A gasp escaped her throat as he padded towards her and pawed at her ankles. The cat lazily rubbed against her feet and purred happily.

"Are you… my familiar?" A meow was her only answer. The elders began to whisper amongst themselves, indeed very confused. In every instance of a master-familiar relationship, the two individuals would be able to communicate with one another. This, however, did not appear the case for Marinette Dupain-cheng. Marinette herself was addled. Who had ever received a pet as their familiar? Maybe the summoning wasn't performed properly? Perhaps a stray-cat had wandered in the middle of the ritual in the hopes for food? These were here only guesses as the elders finally chose to approach.

"Well, this is certainly different…" Her potions master remarked.

"Quite, but he is indeed your familiar, Marinette." The headmaster quickly added. The said young woman had picked up the black cat, who now snuggled contently in her arms.

"Are you for certain, Mr. Damocles? He hasn't said one word to me."

"The tattoo you were given at the beginning of your training, he bares it on his shoulder." He gestured to where the cat was marked in his dark fur. "There have been extremely rare times when familiars communicate with their masters in numerous ways. For instance, with those who are deaf or mute."

"But Sir, I am neither of those things…"

"I know, Marinette, but let's give him some time. Maybe he will try to communicate soon. Congratulations again, Ms. Cheng." With this said, the ritual was complete and Marinette remained with her so-called familiar. She glanced at the feline now licking his paw. Admittedly, the animal was adorable, but still how would he manage to guard her if need be? That was the entire point of this final exercise. A familiar was a sorcerer's guardian, ally, and even sometimes friend for life.

"What am I going to do?"

'Mrrrowww~!'

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She had quickly covered herself and ventured home, but not without a couple of her classmates first stopping her on the street and congratulating her on her achievement. Thank the gods that they didn't notice her new pet. It was already midnight and pitch-black outside. Only a few torches were scattered here and there along the road, making visibility an issue when it came to nightfall. Marinette thanked her friends for their generosity, but then darted home.

She arrived at her small house exhausted, placing the cat on the floor and flopping on her feather mattress. Another meow. She groaned. She was still extremely embarrassed from the ritual. Of course, she had to have the rottenest luck. Stuck with a familiar who could not talk to her, who was just there. Not any different from the addition of a new family pet. She was lucky to now live alone or else her parents would be pestering her all-night long. At first, they had been hesitant of her career choice, but they eventually accepted it and were now proud of how much progress she had made. Marinette dreaded them hounding her the following morning.

The woman raised her head enough to look at the familiar and sighed. Marinette sat up and shed the thin shawl she had wrapped around her body, draping it across her nearby desk chair. She smiled and gestured for the cat to jump on her bed. They animal surprisingly knew exactly what she was thinking and plopped down beside her.

"Here, you can sleep beside me tonight until I can find you a proper bed in the morning." She scratched behind his ears, and he purred in response. "It might not be fancy, but this is my home and you are always welcome." She appreciated the warmth the animal's company brought with it. Just another living thing present made a world of difference. She had gotten used to living alone, so it would take her a while to adjust to the new arrangement. Pulling up the blanket at the bottom of her bed, she covered them both and yawned. "Good night, Kitty. Sweet dreams." She had extinguished the only lit candle then quickly fell into a deep slumber.

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A whisper of fingers trailing lazily across ivory skin. A brush of the blanket away from her body. Her gentle sigh as he tucked away a strand of ebony hair. Eyes roamed her luscious curves as he licked his lips. The maroon material for the ritual did very little to cover her body. He noticed her slim stomach, how it led to pert breasts now pressed slightly by her bent arm. Her nipples were clearly visible through her sheer dress, hardened by the cool air. He leaned forward and kissed her ear, allowing his lips to graze to the crook of her neck. At last, he lapped at the column of her throat, sighing in content.

Marinette was coaxed awake by a wetness on her throat. Opening her eyes slowly, the feeling at first did not register with her. Confused, she finally became more fully awake. She immediately stiffened, afraid to move too much. Had some pervert climbed into her window in the middle of the night? Had a stalker or burglar broke into her home? Terrible theories swarmed in her mind.

She whimpered as the licking abruptly stopped and there was a lack of warmth from behind her. "Whatever is the matter, Marinette?" Her eyelids flew open as she was turned onto her back.

A man. The most gorgeous man she had ever seen. With a bronzed complexion and smoldering jade eyes. He was surprisingly calm, not having a face contorted in a frown or twisted pleasure. He merely stared at her, looking for a response. Her eyes could not help but venture south, further analyzing him. A handsome face led to perfectly sculpted abs and a well-toned abdomen. A line of blonde pubic hair trailed from his belly button all the way down to-… Her eyes bulged. Was that-? Oh my gods! It was!

She quickly averted her eyes and blushed the deepest red she had in all her life. This man. He was completely nude! Au natural! In her house! In her bed! ON TOP OF HER!

Marinette could not breath, her red face quickly turning purple.

"Marinette…!" The man grasped her shoulders as she fainted.

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The morning sunlight filtered through Marinette's curtains as she awoke. That dream. It had been so strange. So real. She could remember the gorgeous blonde man, how in the dream he almost looked concerned for her. She could still feel the warmth of his tongue, how it dragged across her skin, lit a fire in her stomach. She shivered all the way to her core at the memory. A deep ache, unlike anything she had felt before, appeared from nowhere, causing her to lightly blush. That person. He was so extremely attractive… He could have been a god.

Shaking her head, she tried to forget about his captivating gaze. Deciding it was best to eat breakfast, she stood and wandered towards her kitchen. She was startled to find the same naked man from her dreams to be cooking at her fire place, still nude mind you. Marinette gaped like a fish as he turned to her and smiled. "Good morning. You're feeling better I hope." He turned back to the boiling kettle and carefully removed it from the flames.

"Wh-Wh-Wh-Who are-are-are y-y-you!?" Marinette managed to ask a single question.

"Forgive me. I did not know that my true form would startle you this much."

"True- True form!? What!?"

"Do you not remember?" He turned to her once more and pointed to himself. "I'm your familiar."

"FAMILIAR!?" She went silent for a second then laughed. "Unless you can sprout cat ears and a tail, I'm afraid, Sir, that you are not my familiar!" He was insane. He was literally insane! The man with a body of the gods was a lunatic. Of course! Just her luck.

To her surprise, the man walked towards her, making her inch away instinctively. Her back hit the stone wall, and he stood before her. Marinette was once again frightened as he commanded her to close her eyes. Shockingly, she obeyed the strange man who had appeared in her house in the middle of the night. There was a puff of smoke that hit her face, and Marinette coughed. Opening her eyes, she saw her familiar, the black cat who could not speak. Another bout of smoke, and the man was once again in front of her.

"You really are…" She was shocked beyond words as he grabbed her by the waist. "Why didn't you tell me in the first place?" He rested his forehead against hers, looking deep into her eyes.

"My magic hadn't fully been restored yet from the ritual. You were so peacefully asleep when I regained it that I wouldn't dare wake you, My Lady." She happened to notice the tattoo on his shoulder.

"But why did you…? My neck…" She once again blushed.

"I couldn't resist. Your body is just so tempting, especially with the outfit you are wearing." She glanced down at her appearance, noting that she still had on the ritual robes which displayed her entire body. Marinette blushed even further. "And also…," He grazed his mouth and nose once more over her neck, "… I have every intention to make you my mate.".

"M- Mate!?" She was startled by his sudden proclamation but did nothing to stop his following actions. He licked at the tattoo on her neck, glancing up to see her reaction, eyes full of hunger and lust.

"It's not uncommon, Marinette. I want you to truly be my life partner."

"But… we just met." He nipped at her earlobe.

"Do not fret. Please just trust me, My Lady."

"I don't even know your name…!" It came out as a gasp as he kissed behind her ear.

Pulling back to properly look her in the eye, he whispered, "Adrien. You can call me Adrien."

"Adrien…" The warmth in her belly was too much. Their lips met in a gentle but lustful kiss as they embraced. His hands traversed her hips and thighs. Marinette could already feel his hardness pressing against her lower regions. This only compelled her further into submission. Adrien was the word seduction morphed into a single being. His lips and tongue were everywhere, licking here kissing there. Although he was desperate to have her, Marinette was surprised with just how gentle he was being. Never once was he truly rough with her. If he felt that he had gone too far, he would apologize or ask for further permission. Adrien's sinful tongue had eventually traveled down to her heaving bosom, darting towards her hard, sensitive nipples. He licked slow circles around them, teasing her in just the right amount to drive her insane. "Adrien, please!" He took her panting as a sign to proceed with his ministrations. Adrien then sucked on her fabric covered peak, massaging the other breast at the same time. She moaned in pleasure as she ground their hips together, begging for more. He groaned as he sucked harder then moved on to the breast he neglected, switching his hands.

Eventually, the man decided that he needed more, oh so much more… He once again kissed his master, now beginning to remove her thin, wet garment. She was more than thrilled to toss it aside and quickly resume kissing Adrien. They made their way to her bedroom, not once prying away from one another. Now completely naked and on the bed, Adrien began to rut against her sex. He could immediately tell that she was soaking wet, highly pleased with his work but not completely satisfied.

"Marinette,…" Kiss, "…let me show you even more pleasure." A moan was her only response as he removed himself from her and grabbed her leg. Perching the limb on his shoulder, he bowed his head and licked at her dripping folds, tasting her. She cried out as he began to feast on her core, lapping languidly with every sweep of his tongue. Just as she was on the cusp of something wonderful, Adrien stopped. She could have smacked him. How dare he deny her something that felt so heavenly? Marinette whimpered in protest but became intrigued as he sat on his knees. "My Lady, may I ask if you are willing to…?" She sat up to face him, confused by his words.

"To do what, Adrien?" He gestured to his own genitalia and blushed along with Marinette. "Would you please touch me as well?" Marinette understood his sudden nervousness and felt herself inching towards her familiar. Swallowing her nerves, she reached out and grasped his shaft. Adrien gasped. Now with it in the light, Marinette could properly admire this part of him. Adrien was incredibly well endowed, standing at eight and a half inches with a wide girth. The appendage twitched in her hand, throbbing as she tested how to stroke it. Perhaps if she used her tongue as well…?

Adrien was speechless as she pushed him down at the stomach and proceeded in lapping at his thick cock. She gripped the base of the shaft with one hand and cupped his balls in the other. As she kissed the head, she gently rubbed his testicles. Marinette tried to replicate the same experience he had just given her. She wanted more than anything for him to feel just as much pleasure.

She then took him fully into her mouth, and Adrien was pleasantly surprised that she hadn't gagged. Marinette feasted on his cock, sucking him in as she fondled his balls and took the majority of his length. Heaven. Adrien was in heaven. He was whining because it was just so good. Her mouth was arguably better than his own, and his orgasm was fast approaching.

Just as he had done with her, Marinette ended it right before he finished. By this point, they were panting for one another. She yanked Adrien by the arm and he landed on top of her. They kissed again as they rubbed their sexes against each other, almost to the point of humping. "Mari…"

"Adrien, me too. Please. Put it in…!" Adrien complied, grasping his girth and angling it at her entrance. He slowly pushed inside of her, grazing her insides. Once he was almost completely in, he met her barrier. Looking at her for confirmation, he was met with a smile and nod. He pulled out to the tip and plunged within her. Marinette cried out in both pleasure and slight pain.

"I'm so sorry, Mari. Did I hurt you?" Adrien was concerned when he felt the warmth of her blood trickling around him.

"I'm fine. I'll be alright in a few moments. Right now, it's just a bit uncomfortable." He nodded and waited patiently for her to give him the go ahead. It was difficult to with her walls clenching on him so much, but he managed for her sake. "Alright; you can move." With that said, Adrien quickly began pushing himself in and out of her, gasping as he went. After a couple minutes of slow pushing and grinding, Marinette began to feel extreme pleasure. "Please, faster." She gripped onto his shoulders as he then pounded into her. Every thrust had her whimpering in bliss, and sweat ran down her body. Adrien was in much the same state, plunging his cock from only the tip to balls deep in a matter of seconds. The bed rocked violently against the wall with their vigorous fucking.

Marinette couldn't hold on much longer. The two of them screamed as they came, his semen filling her. Panting, Adrien pulled out of her and turned her on her stomach and immediately shoved his thick penis into her once more. She cried out as he gripped her hands as she grabbed onto the sheets. His hips moved madly as he properly fucked her in a doggy style position. By the end, they were both sobbing for release. Adrien allowed his head to rest on Marinette's shoulder as he kissed the mark on her neck and rutted against his lover. With a series of powerful thrusts, Marinette came and Adrien pumped the last load of cum from his balls.

"Ngh!" He collapsed to the side of Marinette and gasped as she struggled to regain her breath as well.

"That was…!"

"Agreed…" He hummed in amusement, pulling her closer and kissing her hair. "…,My Lady."

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 **(A.N.)** Well, I don't think I've written any lemons in four years now, so I thought it was about time for something new.


	2. Gratification Part One

**Title:** Familiar

 **Rating:** M

 **Warnings:** Slight S&M, Smut, Oral, Blood, Detail

 **Summary:** The final part of her sorceress training is to summon a familiar, but Marinette Dupain-Cheng received more than she was bargaining for. (Warning: Detailed Lemon)

 **Note:** Chloé's installment... This should prove to be interesting.

" **Familiar: Gratification Part One"**

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She inspected her perfectly filed nails, glowering at where the paint had begun to chip slightly. Her sigh quickly morphed into an irritable growl of frustration. How dare she? How dare that little-! Chloé Bourgeois sneered from the bench she was currently perched on, frowning at all passerby. One group of individuals happened to hold her interest and as such her gaze never faltered. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The very utterance of her rival's name caused Chloé to shake in rage. How could Marinette stand to be so lucky!? When they were young, it was easy for the girl to be stepped on. However, things gradually began to change once they grew older. Marinette was now the top of their class, admired by all their fellow students. Chloé was disregarded, revered even as a pompous melodramatic. Now, Marinette had it all. Beauty, her wizarding degree, and a drop dead gorgeous familiar who doubled as her life partner. Adrien was his name. Yes; everything came easy for precious Marinette.

Where was her knight in shining armor!? She had yet to finish her training, and day by day she was growing even more impatient. Distractions did little for her predicament, and she was quickly growing bored of waiting for good fortune to fall in her lap.

Chloé gazed up at the blazing sun, the heat suddenly becoming unbearable. Where was Sabrina with her drink? It had been half an hour already; no one takes that long ordering a beverage. Knowing her, the ginger was probably flirting once more with the dwarf of a man known as Maxwell. The walking encyclopedia was so much shorter than Sabrina, that Chloé could easily use him as a stepping stool. Why her minion would ever even consider a man of such a lower status was beyond her.

In recent years, Chloé's father had attempted to match his daughter with an appropriate suiter but failed miserably. The only male of proper status and name in the entire land- who was also her age -bore a large nose, greasy hair, and was only four feet tall and riddled with acne. While looking down on others was one of Chloé's favorite pastimes, she had no intention of having to lower her head the rest of her life to glance upon her husband.

"Here you are, Miss." Sabrina's voice startled the blonde woman out of her thoughts.

"Sabrina, where have you been!?" Her servant began to open her mouth, but Chloé raised a manicured hand. "Save it. I won't stand for more meaningless excuses." Sabrina lowered her head in shame as the girl tossed back her blonde curls and plucked the drink from her hands. Taking a sip, the blonde's eyes widened, and she spat out the liquid. "This is hot! If I wanted hot juice, I would have sat the glass under the damned summer sun myself!" Chloé pitched the drink in disgust, some of it falling on Sabrina's shoes. "Leave my sight." The ginger promptly obeyed, not daring to say another word.

"Tell me. How long does it take for you to style your hair each day to hide those horns of yours?"

"Alya Césaire, as I live and breathe." The said brunette had appeared before her, crossing her tanned arms and donning a frown. "What do you want?"

"I refuse to stand idly by as you torture that poor girl!" Alya gestured to Sabrina, who was disappearing in the distance.

"Torture?" She scoffed. "You believe that I am Sabrina's torturer? How ridiculous! She has been following me like the loyal dog she is for years now." Chloé stood from her seat, crossing her arms as well. The clashing women were now mere inches apart, challenging each other to deliver the first blow. Before any blood could be shed, Marinette interfered by stretching out her arms between them.

"Please, stop this! You both know that you'll never see eye to eye, so please stop with this nonsense." Alya backed off a couple of feet, silently fuming.

"Someone needs to learn to keep their nose where it properly belongs." With this said and Chloé tapping at her own nose, Alya lunged for her. Adrien managed to hold the feisty brunette back by the arms and pull her away from the scene.

"I swear to the gods, Bourgeois! One day you will get what is coming to you!" Alya screamed. Chloé merely rolled her eyes as the three of them quickly left.

"Peasants…" Upon glancing once more at precious Marinette and her familiar's retreating forms, Chloé's anger returned, and a snarl escaped her lips. "We'll just see about how lucky you actually are Marinette. You are going to get your just deserts."

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By the stroke of midnight, Chloé Bourgeois had withdrawn from her sleeping chamber and dove head first into the darkness of the night. The small amount of moonlight did little to aid her sight as she had to feel along the walls for a grasp of her surroundings. Nevertheless, she managed to make her way to the courtyard of the Bourgeois manor, where her loyal Sabrina awaited. "Did you bring what I asked?"

"But of course, Milady." From Sabrina's satchel, the red head pulled a hard-leather-bound journal. Deep onyx with an emerald encrusted into its surface, the book held an ominous aura. Chloé took the offered item and ran her hands across the spine of the tome, feeling of the braided leather. Delightfully humming to herself, she turned to the first page and inspected the runes for a dark incantation. "Chloé are you really planning on going through with this!?" Sabrina whispered, the fear in her voice evident. As a response, the blonde promptly shut the book with one hand and glared at her servant.

"Why would I not? It will lead me to what I desire most, the destruction of Marinette's reputation." She cackled at the mere thought.

"But, would that not be cruel? Yes, Marinette is every bit as annoying as you say she is. Do not misunderstand; I am not disagreeing with you. However, is this not -dare I say-… a _dirty_ way of handling the situation?" The question hesitatingly left her lips as Chloé grew ever closer.

A sharp fingernail was threateningly pointed at Sabrina as the witch spat the following words, "Cruel or not, this is what that temptress deserves! She has cast a spell on everyone that causes them to absolutely ADORE her! It must be witchcraft! What other explanation is there!?"

"She could just be a likeable person…" Chloé guffawed.

"Has she tampered with your mind as well, Sabrina!? If you have any sense at all left in that little brain of yours, you will follow my orders like you are supposed to, without question. For centuries, your family has abided by the rule of the Bourgeois, and I expect you to continue to live out that legacy. Do you wish to bring dishonor to your family, Sabrina!? Do you want me to cast you out of our village!?" Sabrina collapsed to her knees clutching at Chloé's night robe, beginning to sob with every harsh jab at her pride. She paid no mind for the tears on her face nor the mud on her now filthy clothes.

"Please, Chloé! I did not mean any harm by it! Please! This all that my family has! Forgive me; I was out of line!" Chloé tugged away her dress out of the poor girl's hands.

"You better believe that you were out of line! Never should you speak ill of me or my opinions! If ever you do so again, I will keep true to my promises of being rid of your family."

"But, of course… Why certainly, Lady Chloé!"

"Hmph! That is much better. Perhaps you are of some use after all. Now, get up. Stop groveling!" Sabrina did as was commanded of her, attempting to brush off the dirt from her cloak. "Back to the matter at hand. With this book, you will discover a method to bring down Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Once you have discovered it, you will report back to me and we will perform the ceremony. Also, you shall speak no word of what has happened tonight or my plans for Marinette! Is that clear?"

"Crystal!"

"Good. Now, return to your quarters."

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The following two weeks had Chloé lying in wait for the conclusion of Sabrina's studying. Impatient as she was, the blonde had approached the ginger many a day, inquiring of her findings. With every ask, their yielded no results. However, upon the fifteenth day, Sabrina had arrived with news. As was asked of her, she had found a spell that would mar Marinette's reputation. "This should do the trick!" Sabrina slammed the book on the desk of the Bourgeois study room, dust flying into the air. Both girls coughed as they looked at the page Sabrina was referring to. "From what I can decipher, this is an incantation that allows the caster to take away whatever they want from whomsoever they choose. It would allow you to take away her good fortunes! And,-" The girl was shoved out of the way by Chloé who wanted to get a better look.

"And, you are sure this will work?"

"I am positive, Miss!"

"Hmm… Well then, let us proceed with the ceremony then." That evening the two got to work on the preparations for the incantation. Truth be told, it was mostly Sabrina running about for supplies, but Chloé would tell you otherwise. Once everything was completed, the two beamed at one another and gleefully flipped to the rightful page. "Now, all that is left is the words. Step aside Sabrina; we do not want you getting caught in the crossfire."

"Yes, Miss." Chloé began the spell. The wind outside began to howl, and the windows shuddered like scattering leaves. As it was nearing the end of the enchantment, Chloé unknowingly mispronounced a word, but the ginger noticed. However, the spell was over before Sabrina could inform her. Lightning struck a nearby tree at that moment, causing both girls to jump in fright. Expecting something to pop up out of nowhere, the two of them huddled underneath a table. Of course, nothing came. Chloé felt like a fool for allowing her nerves to get the better of her. "Well, do you feel any different?" Chloé inspected her own hands and body, feeling nothing out of the ordinary. Was something supposed to happen or not?

"Not at all! Are you sure that worked, Sabrina?"

"Well, it should have done something. Maxwell assured me that it would… Then again, you did mispronounce one of the words."

"I did no such thing!" Chloé stomped her foot in outrage. "And, what do you mean by Maxwell said so!? You approached him about this!?" Sabrina froze.

"No! I mean I did, but… I never told him what it was for! I just asked him if the tome was trustworthy material or not."

"I should have known better than to trust you!" With that said, Chloé stormed off to her chambers, leaving Sabrina to her own.

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As the days passed by, nothing appeared to have been altered in Chloé's life, not one single thing. As punishment, the young women neglected Sabrina, ultimately ignoring her overall presence. This course of action only angered the people who knew of the situation. That is… all except for her father, of course. Her Daddy dearest would do no such thing as go against his one and only daughter, why it would be shameful!

Instead of the good luck Chloé wished to be bestowed upon her, she received nothing but bad. Her valuable new dress made exclusively in Paris was torn as it caught on the side of her family's carriage, sending the girl falling into the mud below. Her prized mare, who had always been a tame beast, went on a rampage in the streets for no apparent reason. Even her hair almost caught on fire as one of the maids prepared it with the curling rod! Consequently, everyone effectively avoided the blonde witch, not wishing to catch her rotten luck. In the process, this tore Chloé Bourgeois down to the very core of her being. Within the course of two months, Chloé grew despicable in every sense, becoming even more socially inept than she ever had been.

However, this all but changed with the arrival of the Bourgeois' annual ball. Being held in honor of Chloé's birthday, diplomats and nobility of the like were invited from across the kingdom. It is during these festivities that her father socialized with the elites and made attempts to wed her off for business deals. This was a time of joy for her doting father but one of despair for his beloved daughter. With every passing moment preparations were made and Chloé began to dread the event more and more. She had had so much bad luck as of late… She did not even want to imagine what would occur at her party.

Despite her trepidation concerning her birthday, the celebration was held regardless. That night the ball room was polished to a shine, the walls lined with expensive hors d'oeuvres, servants served flutes of champagne, pristine drapes bordered the large arching windows, and an exquisite chandelier hung proudly above the middle of the dance floor. Guests filtered through the wide set of French doors, and Chloé sweated as she eyed them from the stairs. At that moment she was hidden, peaking around the corner of the landing and fretting about what was yet to come. She was tempted to run and climb down from her bedroom window to escape her horrible situation. Just as she was about to make her escape, she heard her father announcing her introduction. This was the moment she had been dreading. She just knew that somewhere or somehow something was going to go terribly wrong.

Clenching her fists as she gripped her white ball gown, Chloé traipsed from her hiding place and out into the open. She wore a fake grin as she gracefully descended the stairs and waved her hand to those few she knew. Just as she was nearing the bottom, her shoe caught on the carpet along the following step, successfully launching her forward. All eyes went wide as she gasped and braced for the impact. Right when she expected her face to meet the floor, an arm reached beneath her stomach and halted her movement.

"Are you alright, Miss Bourgeois?" She was startled as a sweet, calming voice filled her ears. Chloé was slowly stood up and turned to face her savior. Breath taking. That was the only word she could use to describe him. Standing just above her height while she wore heels, the man was a breath of fresh air. His bright red locks pulled into a low ponytail was only accentuated by nearby candlelight, serving no further purpose than to entice the Bourgeois heiress. With bright teal irises that successfully mummed her, Chloé could not deny that this man was extremely attractive, more so than anyone she had ever met before. She was so enraptured with his beauty that she nearly missed his following words being whispered into her ear. "That could have been a terrible fall. I pray that your ankle has not turned." Even if it had, there was no possibility she could feel it at that moment, as she was too preoccupied turning into a puddle of goo.

"Nathanaël, for shame. Men should never lay a hand on a lady without permission! You must forgive my apprentice, André. His name is Nathanaël Kurtzberg, still but a commoner who knows no better." A rather short man clad in stuffy garments approached them while addressing Chloé's father, who trailed not far behind. As if startled, the man now known as Nathanaël suddenly paused with sudden exclamation.

"My apologies, Lord Bourgeois, Miss Bourgeois. Such behavior was presumptuous on my part." He bowed to each of them, as was tradition.

With a boisterous guffaw, her father replied, "There was no harm done. You are forgiven, my boy." Chloé remained speechless. Did her father not see what this man did for her? Did he not take notice how this man had saved both her reputation as well as herself from bodily harm? Nathanaël's actions had in fact been admirable.

"Regardless, Nathanaël, you are dismissed. The Mayor and I have certain matters to discuss." With having said those words, the young man complied to his master's whims, politely excusing himself. Chloé immediately yearned for the warm touch he had placed on her arm, how his hands had secured her from danger. Watching him depart from the group, she fanned herself, hoping that no one would notice her blush. Never in her life had she encountered someone so… mesmerizing.

The remainder of the evening was spent politely talking to fellow persons of intrigue, officials her father wished for her to meet. As her savior had feared, Chloé's ankle had indeed turned, so the sooner this hosting event was over the better. However, she made certain to keep an eye out for a Mr. Nathanaël Kurtzberg, who promised to be an almost guaranteed highlight for her night. It was only until an hour remained of the gala that she discovered him in the gardens, keeping to himself. Many guests had avoided venturing away from the party, so this left them almost completely to themselves. Gathering her courage, she approached him with bated breath. She eventually cleared her throat and gained his attention.

"Oh, Miss Bourgeois! I did not expect you to be away from the festivities… I mean… Uh, I have no say in your actions. Forgive me. Perhaps that was rude." He was obviously a bundle of nerves, having not been under such social circumstances. She smiled in endearment, finding his bashfulness charming.

"I came to speak with you, actually. I was not able to thank you for earlier." This surprised him, his eyes widening exponentially. "It was extremely undeserving, how those two handled the situation. They made no act of thanking you for your kindness or consideration. No one has done that for me in a long time." For several seconds, they gazed into each other's eyes. Nathanaël coughed into his gloved hand, blushing and turning away.

"If I am being honest, I was not expecting such appreciative words. Thank you, Miss Bour-."

"Chloé. You may call me Chloé." Her interruption earned her a blush so fierce it rivaled his hair. "And before you say that it is inappropriate, it only is when I say so. Do not become concerned with what others think." She considered his embarrassment charming as he fumbled for something to say. Thankfully, she progressed the conversation with a change in topic. "So, I understand that you were not raised in nobility."

"You are correct. My family is originally from the working district, and it is due to my father's connections that I was offered the position of apprenticeship under Monsieur Lesauvage."

"And what is your father's profession if you do not mind my asking?" Nathanaël smiled at the mentioning of his father.

"He is the owner of a canvas supply shop. I grew up helping him build frames and stretch the material." He paused and grimaced slightly. "I suppose you have no interest in such things."

"Truthfully, I am not familiar with the art myself, but I do appreciate the works created on them." At hearing this, the man grew more pleased.

"Actually, that is what I wish to do with my life. Ever since I was a child, I have admired the great painters of the past. I can only hope that I will gather such skill with practice." Chloé began to laugh.

"Now that you have told me, I can see you being an artist. Have you considered the position of court painter?"

"C-Court painter!? A man of little wealth like myself? Forgive me for saying so, Miss Bourgeois, but that is highly unlikely!" Chloé grasped Nathanaël's hand and looked him in the eye.

"It is not if you have the proper connections..."

"Are you implying what I think you are?"

"My father is to meet with his highness at the beginning of next month. I could convince him to introduce you and your talents. After all, I do owe you a favor for what you did earlier."

"But that position... Is it not appointed to someone who has done notable work?"

"You speak the truth. However," She placed a finger on Nathanaël's lips, causing him to swallow. "...even if you do not receive the position, you will be noticed for your skill and perhaps be employed by someone who is properly aware of your talents. Many nobles seek someone to create their portraits; it is an honorable profession."

"I do not understand. Why would you assist someone of my status?"

"Because... I..." Chloé hesitated, not entirely certain herself. Why did she care so for someone of such lower status? It was not only because he was attractive. No; it was more than that. "You remind of myself, desperate for something just out of reach. I want to give you that chance. Besides, I insist that until my father attends that meeting you have nothing to do with Monsieur Lesauvage. Instead, stay here. After all, I want to see how talented you really are."

 **TO BE CONTINUED**

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 **(A.N.)** After much procrastination, here is the continuation of "Familiar". This time we center in on Chloé Bourgeois and the inevitable occurrences leading to her fate. I am a real sucker for the peculiar pairing that is ChloéxNathanaël, so their relationship will be continued in a part two. Originally, this was meant to be only two chapters, but I decided to make it three instead. The reason for this is that I felt the set up for Chloé's story was too long. Next chapter will probably be full of mature content. Look forward to the next installment.


End file.
